


Undisclosed Desires

by RavenWhitecastle



Series: The Sinner and the Saint [13]
Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Come Swallowing, Dom Harold Finch, Dom/sub, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Simultaneous Orgasm, Sub John Reese
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-12
Updated: 2018-05-12
Packaged: 2019-05-05 15:08:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14621283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RavenWhitecastle/pseuds/RavenWhitecastle
Summary: John has always been good at taking orders. And a tiny part of him likes it.





	1. Chapter 1

John was good at following orders. It was part of why he climbed the ranks so quickly. Not the main reason, but part of it. Now Harold would disagree. Harold would call John “obstinate and insubordinate even on the best of days.” And John would smile fondly and hide his smirk. But before Harold, before the numbers and the Machine, when John wasn’t allowed to question orders or “go rogue,” he had been very good at following orders. A tiny part of him liked it.

He knew where to draw the line, of course. He was always professional about it in the CIA. He had been professional about everything. But every so often, away from the field and outside the agency, he’d let slip that he enjoyed being bossed around. Between jobs when he found a partner for the night, sometimes he’d reveal that part of himself. Of course, many of his partners had been hesitant to take charge, to say the least. He was over six feet tall and not easily dominated. Some would humor him, teasingly. They’d playfully ask if he’d been a naughty boy, and he would resign himself to a disappointing outcome, working to get it over with as quickly as possible.

But now that he was with Harold- whatever the word “with” implied, he found the lines starting to blur. John knew where to draw the lines in the field. He couldn’t think such thoughts in a hail of bullets anyway. In day to day work, his brain rant through the motions- check for cameras and exits, assess potential threats- and kept him on task.

And then some days, when he was doing surveillance work, and he let his guard down, John lost track of the lines.

“I urge you to keep a close eye on this number, Mr. Reese,” Harold said over the comms, “His rap sheet is… impressive for lack of a better word.”

John snapped a quick pic of their most recent number. “I wouldn’t really call several counts of petty larceny ‘impressive.’”

Harold sighed. “Mr. Reese. This is important. At least try to act professional.”

John decided to push his luck. “The only thing that qualifies me as a professional is the fact that you pay me.”

“Mr. Reese,” Harold snapped, “Please take this matter more seriously!”

Harold’s demanding tone made John squirm. Clearing his throat, he shut his mouth and returned to taking pictures. Silently, he thought to himself that he had to do something and fast. If he let his imagination start running out of control on the job, innocent people would suffer.

He slipped up again a few days later, when he was tailing their number after they’d gotten done with work. The number was headed into high risk territory. John was convinced that it was where the Machine wanted them to go, but Harold said the evidence suggested otherwise.

“If Mr. Flint goes in and we can’t get eyes on him, we won’t know if he needs to be stopped,” John argued.

“But if you go charing in with no cover and Flint won’t cooperate, you might end up getting him hurt, or yourself, or BOTH.”

John checked his clip before shoving his piece into his waistband a little forcefully. “You think Flint is the one who’s in danger?”

“He WILL be in danger if we don’t carefully consider our next move.”

John grit his teeth. “And if he isn’t the victim, God only knows what he will get up to if we don’t stay on his ass.” He straightened his jacket. “I’m going in.”

“Mr. Reese, stand down!” Harold commanded.

John practically shivered, mentally berating himself. Things were getting out of hand. John cracked his neck and took a deep breath. “Yes, sir,” he murmured.

Everything came to a head at the library. John was cleaning his gun at Harold’s desk, partly to calm his building frustration. The moving mechanical parts made sense to his brain, unlike the swirling storm of thoughts and fantasies inside his head, not to mention the accompanying heat.

As he predicted, Harold was displeased with John’s activities. “Mr. Reese,” Harold said, his tone strained, “We’ve already discussed this. I don’t approve of you doing that here.”

John barely looked up from his work. “And I think I remember telling you there wasn’t another place for me to do this.”

“Why can’t you do it at home?” Harold asked, placing his briefcase on the desk with a heavy thud.

John shoved the charge handle forward. “I don’t want to.” He knew he was being childish, but he couldn’t bring himself to stop.

“Mr. Reese, put the gun away,” Harold growled, clearly tired of petty arguing. He stepped closer waiting for John to get out of Harold’s chair.

Breathing heavily, John stood and met Harold’s steely gaze. “ _Make me_.”

They stood inches apart for a few moments, John’s shoulders heaving with every breath, and Harold’s lips pressed firmly together. John watched as Harold’s eyes flickered back and forth between John’s, the wheels visibly turning in his mind.

Something in the air shifted, and Harold spoke again. “Is that what you want?” Harold whispered, his voice soft, “To be told what to do? Made to obey?” His eyes softened. “Do you want me to give you orders?”

Heart in his throat, John waited a long time before he lowered his gaze and slowly nodded. A wave of shame washed over him at letting his libido get the better of him. They’d set strict rules concerning their “relationship,” which boiled down to never outside the designated safehouse except for sometimes in the back of a cab, and their safeword was “Ordos.” And there John was, goading Harold on in the library.

John was about to apologize for breaking the rules, but Harold’s voice froze him in place.

“On your knees.”


	2. Chapter 2

“On your knees.”

Harold hardly sounded like Harold at all. John looked up from the floor to see Harold watching him, almost expressionless except for a familiar gleam in his eyes.

“Excuse me?” John replied.

Harold raised his chin. “You heard me.” When John didn’t say anything, Harold’s gaze darkened. “That’s an order.”

John felt his cock twitch against his pants. He almost slipped in his haste to kneel, and he placed a hand on the desk to steady himself.

“Hands behind your back,” Harold instructed.

John obeyed, crossing his wrists over one another. “There isn’t something else you want me to do with my hands?” John teased.

“Silence.” Harold’s voice filled the space and John snapped his mouth shut. “You will speak only when spoken to, understood?”

John felt his face growing hot. “Yes, sir,” he replied, staring straight ahead.

Harold allowed himself a tiny smile. John fell into the role of soldier flawlessly. It was what made him so good in the field, but it also awoke something deep inside Harold. Besides, John looked so good on his knees.

“Here is what is going to happen,” Harold began, crossing his hands behind him, “On my command, you will undo my belt and lower my pants. You may undo your own as well. You will move that chair to allow me to sit, and then you will suck me off to completion. When my cock is in your mouth and you are unable to address me as your superior, you will signal your understanding with complete and utter obedience. Is that clear?”

John swallowed dryly. He couldn’t help it- he was rock hard under his suit. “Yes, sir,” he answered.

“Very good.” John was surprised at how easily Harold had switched from his tense and mildly irritable self to this stern, authoritative personality. But John was good at taking orders.

And Harold was surprisingly sufficient at giving them.

“If I am at all displeased with your performance,” Harold warned, “I will discipline you as I see fit.”

John smirked at that. They’d had a few nights involving adult toys, and while John had no intentions of disappointing Harold, he was curious to see how Harold would improvise with the tools at his disposal. John quietly wondered if Harold would sacrifice one of his precious books. “Obviously, sir.”

Harold lifted John’s head with a hand on his jaw. Not in a tender way- more like John was merchandise. “I asked for silence,” Harold reminded him firmly, “Wipe that grin off your face.”

John set his lips in a thing line, suppressing a moan of delight, and patiently waited for Harold’s order.

After observing John for a few more moments, Harold adjusted his glasses, and snapped, “Begin.”

John made quick work of Harold’s belt and pants, his fingers having practiced the motions many times over. He pulled, revealing all of Harold. To his surprise, Harold’s member sprang forth. John looked up at his new master. He knew Harold was indulging him, but John hadn’t expected Harold to be enjoying himself so much.

When John’s movements ceased, Harold looked down his nose at him. “Did I tell you to stop?”

John averted his gaze. “No, sir. Sorry, sir.”

“Don’t let it happen again.”

“Yes, sir.”

John continued, reaching for the chair he had moved aside. With some difficulty. John maneuvered it behind Harold so he could sit down, before undoing his own trousers and freeing his intense erection. Harold leaned back and rested his elbows on the armrests, folding his hands like a steeple. Impatiently, he raised an eyebrow. “Hands behind your back, soldier.”

Panting, John crossed his hands again and waited, but Harold wasn’t having any of it. He snapped his fingers, and John nearly crumbled.

Obediently, John went about his work, the way he knew Harold wanted him to. John slipped his tongue out over Harold’s head and teased before closing his lips around the end. Then, slowly, he worked his mouth back and forth, adding more of Harold’s length each time before fully taking Harold’s cock to the hilt.

Harold’s little noises of pleasure that he couldn’t contain drove John over the edge. He slipped one hand between his legs and stroked himself in time with his bobbing head motions, a technique he’d practiced often in Harold’s company.

When he looked up through his lashes, Harold’s eyes were open and watching him, another surprise. Harold’s eyes were usually closed in ecstasy, but where Harold’s breathing was still coming in shaky gasps, he was watching John intently, studying him, assessing him. John averted his eyes again, and pulled back, giving Harold’s head another little tug before sliding back up.

When he’d brought Harold to the edge, John started to pull away to let him finish. In the blink of an eye, Harold’s hand was on the back of his neck, holding him in place. John’s eyes went wide.

“Did I… say you… could move?” Harold snarled even as his hips bucked. Taking the cue, John pushed all the way up until Harold’s length was fully inside his mouth. Harold came violently as John did, so hard he saw stars. It was interesting sensation, hot and salty and intimate. John had never swallowed before. Harold usually finished into a condom or across the sheets. The neighbors thought they did a suspicious amount of laundry. But John didn’t mind.

As they finished, dizzy and sweating, Harold’s hand slipped away, and John let go, swallowing what didn’t come dribbling out of his mouth. John rocked back on his heels and looked up at Harold, who was smiling at him, having dropped his commanding persona.

With difficulty, Harold joined John on the floor, and used his pocket square to wipe away the excess from the corner of John’s lips. “Was that satisfactory?” Harold murmured. The question was so quiet compared to the moans of bliss John had dragged from his lips moments ago.

John nodded. “Better than I’d ever imagined,” he sighed, “Was it as good for you as it was for me?”

Harold nodded, chuckling. “You’re always so good to me, but that was… particularly pleasing. You look so good on your knees.” Harold combed his fingers through John’s hair fondly.

John practically purred at both the attention and the praise. It warmed his heart, the way Harold smiled up at him, eyes gleaming.

Suddenly, Harold looked down at the floor. “I’m… sorry. About forcing you to… to swallow.”

“What?”

Harold adjusted his glasses. “I should have asked your consent, since you’ve never… I mean, we didn’t…” His thoughts jumbled together, and he trailed off, fiddling with his tie. “I didn’t know how… cross you wanted me to be,” he admitted, “and it was a completely different side of me, so I didn’t know how far to go but I wanted to make you happy, so I-”

“You did perfectly,” John interrupted, “I appreciate everything you did. I didn’t quite know how to ask for what I wanted, but it turns out you knew without me saying a word.”

“And it was all… all right?”

“It was all I could have asked for.”

Harold leaned forward and kissed him fondly on the cheek. “You can have whatever you ask for, John.”

John suddenly remembered something that had crossed his mind before. “I’m sorry I broke the rules.”

It was Harold’s turn to be confused. “Pardon?”

“The ground rules. We said that we would only do it in the safehouse, never at work, but…” John gestured to their varying states of undress. “I let it get out of hand. I brought those feelings to work.” He hung his head. “I broke the first rule.”

Harold leaned down to look John in the eye. Harold was smirking. “Well, then,” he said, his glasses sliding down his nose, “I think it’s high time we amended some of the rules. Don’t you?”

**Author's Note:**

> The mildly dubious consent was in reference to Harold making John swallow when he never had. Harold apologizes immediately afterwards, to which John is very receptive.  
> This was my first time writing anything like this-smutty, that is-despite the other smutty chapters coming first. They were written out of order, but writing this made writing the others a little easier. I couldn't get over John taking orders, and getting a little pleasure out of it, so this "little" fic was born. I didn't plan on it being this long! Thank you for reading, and I'll take any and all constructive criticism to heart.  
> Songspiration: "Undisclosed Desires" by Muse. It was actually included on a Rinch playlist on 8tracks! Fits perfectly, right?


End file.
